But then CJ flashed his storm-grey eyes at me, earnest and tense with regret.
And now I feel like shit for forcing him into a lie that we’re strangers.
Damn it. How can I demand honesty when I failed to reciprocate?
And avoiding him is impossible thanks to our jobs. In fact, my first goal as an IDFW wildlife biologist is an overhaul of the winter emergency feeding program, which I was excited about because itmeant sparring with Dad, but now CJ will surely be part of that conversation. And I’m assisting with a multi-agency watershed restoration project starting soon which will definitely involve him.
After yoga, the reprieve of cool air inside the entryway is a balm on my hot skin. “I only have a few minutes for donut holes,” Maryanne says as we head for the stairs, our extra layers bundled under our arms. “So you’d better start talking. In fact, ride with me.”
By the time we pull into Glory Holes, I’ve relayed everything up until when CJ and Dad left for that call last night.
Maryanne shudders. “A dead body?”
“I probably shouldn’t have told you that part.”
She waves me off. “Does your dad deal with that a lot?”
“No, but it’s not the first.”
She coasts to a spot on the street, and we climb out. I zip my fleece jacket all the way to my chin against the cold as we crunch over the snowy parking lot to the entrance.
Inside, Glory Holes is packed with the pre-ski rush—men and women and kids in long underwear and parkas and snow boots.
“God, it smells good,” Maryanne says over the whir of the espresso machine and the snap of paper from the helper filling orders as we crowd inside.
“Heavenly,” I sigh.
“I spy with my little eye.” Maryanne grabs my bicep and pulls me around the corner. “Isn’t that them?”
I peer around the backside of the espresso machine. At the counter, Dad and CJ stand chatting with Miranda, the owner, each holding a large paper cup of coffee. From this angle, CJ’s partially in profile, his full lips parted in an easy smile at something Miranda just said.
“Sweet sassy molassy, he’s hot in a uniform,” Maryanne mutters under her breath.
When we were dancing, I liked CJ’s easy smile, the way it madehis face brighten. I liked his laugh, too. And somehow, that he was completely at ease made everything feel more genuine.
CJ salutes Miranda with his coffee and turns to follow Dad.
Too late, I don’t duck out of sight, and his silver eyes catch mine.
My stomach does that annoying jittery flip.Jesus, cowgirl. I force my eyes away. If he’s going to take over Dad’s district, bumping into him like this will become a regular occurrence. Not to mention the meetings we’ll attend, the projects we’ll partner on.
Why the hell couldn’t I have humped some other guy’s leg that night?
The line moves to the corner of the display case just as Dad and CJ shuffle through the crowd. Dad’s eyes light up when he sees me, and I force a smile.
“How was yoga, ladies?” He brings his coffee to his lips.
“Hot,” I croak.
Dad glances at CJ, who is staring at me in a way that’s making my spine buzz.
“Maryanne, this is CJ,” Dad says.
Maryanne cocks an eyebrow. “We’ve?—”
I step on her toes, and she thankfully takes the hint. “Nice to meet you, CJ.”
“Well, we’ve got to get going,” Dad says. “Have a good day.” He spins for the door, but to my surprise, CJ leans in, bringing that fresh cotton-and-clove scent right into my senses, and whispers, “You ever wanna not be careful again, do it with me.”